The Christmas Miracle
by ddgorgeous
Summary: 'Tis the season! When Fran asks a special favor of Derek, he isn't very jolly. Will this season be merry and bright or a living nightmare! All silly fun and fluff!
1. Chapter 1

"He's got to."

"What? No! He can't!"

"He has to. If he doesn't Ma will have his head!"

Penelope knew her sister-in-law was right. Derek had been dodging this for months now and both she and her stubborn husband had run out of excuses.

"Sarah, tell me how I'm supposed to look my delicious, gorgeous hunk of a husband in the eye and tell him he has to go to church…of all places wearing a red velour suit trimmed in white faux fur, shouting ho-ho-ho at the top of his lungs?"

The woman was overcome with a vision of her brother dressed as Santa and she broke into hysterics. Penelope saw nothing funny but she couldn't help joining Sarah as they both doubled over with tears streaming down their faces.

"You tell him!"

Penelope looked up pleading into Sarah's face as she struggled to catch her breath.

"No way, Sister…you tell him…after all he won't try to kill you…he sleeps with you and you're caring his child…so no…you tell him."

Grabbing her purse, scarf and coat, Sarah cowardly, still laughing…deep in her gut laughing and bolted toward the door of her brother's brand new, pristinely appointed home. Penelope holding onto the banister with dear life still recovering from her own fit of laughter watched her dear sweet sister-in-love bail on her.

"COWARD!"

 **BAU Headquarters –**

"Come on, Morgan what's the big deal? It's only once a year!"

"There's no way in hell, Derek Morgan is going to dress up in a red suit, a white beard and a red and white hat! Not happening, Pretty Boy!"

Reid noted that he was now referring to himself in the third person…not a good sign, he thought.

"What about your nephews they're counting on you…their favorite uncle…"

"Their _only_ uncle…"

"Still, it's for the kids…Besides, Jack and Henry will be there too."

"Exactly! I can't let Jack and Henry see me go out like that. I'm the coolest person they know. Can you imagine the damage that could be done to their little fragile minds if I let them see me like that? It would destroy everything they know about swag, cool, debo…"

"Okay, okay…enough…my stomach is getting queasy. Besides, I thought you turned in your cool card when you and Garcia got married."

"Nah man, _The Derek_ will never turn in his cool card."

Reid shook his head and watched his friend as he threw the rest of his belongings into his bag. In all the years he'd known his best friend he'd only referred to himself as _The Derek_ only...actually, he'd never referred to himself in the third person or as, _The Derek_. He had to admit Fran and his sisters had quite a battle, quite a battle indeed.

"So, what are you going to tell your mother?"

Derek stopped in mid air as he slowly turned to face Reid. Reid could swear he saw fear in the man's eyes. Morgan feared no one, absolutely no one…except Fran Morgan Rossi. The thought of her wrath and that cold steely glare when he misbehaved sent a chill down his spine.

"I'll say we have a case…"

"How will you explain the rest of us being there?"

"Uh…Uh…special assignment?"

"On Christmas Eve?"

"Then…"

Morgan looked around as if thinking of the answer to the sixty-four thousand dollar question.

"Then what?"

"I'll have you shoot me."

"What?"

"Nothing serious, just a flesh wound…we've got plenty of time to practice...I'll say I was hurt on the last case and the doctor confined me to bed."

Reid looked at his friend as if he'd grown antlers.

"What? Morgan have you…?"

"It'll be a piece of cake. Just channel the old Reid, you know before you could actually shoot that big old gun."

"NO!"

"Come on Reid, help me out! I'd do it for you!"

"Oh, so if I asked you to shoot me, you'd do it?"

"Yeah if it would keep you out of a Santa suit…risking your manhood and your cool status…wait you're not cool…so maybe I should…"

"MORGAN! Enough! I'm NOT going to shoot you!"

"Then you need to help me think of a way out of this 'cause it'll be a cold day in Hell before you catch me in a damn Santa suit!"

 **Home of Dave and Fran Rossi –**

"Come on Bella, he's a grown man! You can't make him do something he doesn't want to do!"

"Trust me Dave, he'll do it! I'm his mother and he's never refused me anything."

"Yeah but I think this is asking too much even for Derek."

"Don't underestimate me, Husband. Besides I have a secret weapon up my sleeve."

"Oh let me guess, his darling wife, the woman of his dreams and the mother of his unborn child."

"Well no, although that is a pretty good guess but this time I haven't been able to sway her to my side. Must be pregnancy hormones or something…anyway…"

Dave kissed his wife and headed toward the kitchen sending up a silent prayer that she'd give up this notion of having Derek play Santa in the upcoming church Christmas pageant. The thought of his stepson in a baggy stuffed Santa suit nearly made him spill his wine as he poured two glasses for himself and Fran. Walking back into the den he handed her a glass and took the seat next to her.

"So what is this secret weapon?"

Taking a long sip from her wine she turned and with a confident smile she began sharing her plans that would make it impossible for her son to say, no.

 **Home of Derek and Penelope Morgan –**

Penelope had just ended her call with her mother-in-law when her husband walked through the door.

"Baby Girl, I'm home."

"In the kitchen, Handsome."

Penelope turned to greet Derek as he walked into the room. He was exhausted and hungry. He noticed that there was no evidence of dinner being prepared so he assumed that they were ordering in. He kissed her on the lips and hugged her tightly for several minutes.

"Not that I'm complaining, Hot Stuff but what was that for?"

"Can't a man hug his wife when he comes home from a long day's work? By the way, what's for dinner?"

"Yes he can and your mother called and invited us for dinner."

She knew he wouldn't want to go but she didn't have the heart to turn the woman who was like a mother to her down.

"Baby, I'm not in the mood for my mother's constant demands for me to be jolly 'ol St. Nick this year."

"I know Sweetheart and I told her that the topic of Santa is off limits."

He kissed her again and surrendered.

"You've already told her we were coming, haven't you."

"Yes?"

"You know she's going to find a way to bring it up, right?"

"I know, I know but she's your mother. When have you ever said no to your mother."

"Are you trying to say I'm a momma's boy Garcia?"

"Garcia? Ooh…okay…I see where this is going, Mister."

"I'm sorry, Baby Girl but I'm not playing an old fat guy this year, period!"

"Fine, in fact, that's what I told your sister earlier when she came by."

"Please don't tell me my mother sent Sarah over here…"

"Okay I won't but she did."

"Well, I don't care if she sends, President Obama over here, I'm not playing Santa! Besides, there's gotta be a dozen old dudes at her church that would love to play Santa."

"But she wants you!"

She kissed him this time trying to lighten the mood and his sour disposition.

"So, are we going or not."

He kissed her back and smiled.

"Okay, fine. Just let me take a shower first and I'll be ready in an hour."

"Sounds like a plan."

 **Home of Dave and Fran Rossi – 1 hour later –**

Dave had to admit he'd finally found his equal not only in love but also in the kitchen. Fran was an amazing cook and so was Dave. In fact, Fran had mastered the art of culinary warfare. Whenever she wanted something from her dear husband and her poor defenseless children she'd turn up the heat on one of her time-tested recipes and soon white flags of surrender were flying high. Tonight was one of those nights. The menu was Fran's homemade meatballs and Dave's homemade pasta. Both of them had teamed up on the sauce with Dave pulling a special bottle of wine from his collection.

"Sweetheart, I need you." Fran cooed.

"Yes Bella, how can I help you?"

Dave set the bottles of red wind on the counter and joined his wife at the stove. He'd remodeled his kitchen shortly after they were married, doubling the size that would make any Michelin star chef green with envy.

"I think I've got the sauce just right. Taste it for me please."

Fran held the wooden spoon to his lips and watched as he tasted it. She saw his eyes light up and that was all she needed to smell victory on the horizon.

"Delizioso!"

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah!"

Dave planted a kiss on her lips and looked at the devilish look in her eyes. She knew exactly what she was doing and she knew exactly how to get what she wanted. Dave chuckled as she turned back to the stove.

"What's so funny?"

"Ohhhh...Mrs. Rossi you don't play fair. You're son doesn't stand a chance."

Just then the doorbell rang. Dave planted another kiss on her lips and headed toward the front of the house. Smiling he opened the door and welcomed Derek and Penelope inside.

"Hey old man."

"Old man? I don't think your mother was calling me an old man last night."

"Hey! Hey! I'm not trying to hear details about you and my mother… _together_."

The three of them laughed as they moved into the house heading toward the aroma of amazing food.

"It smells incredible in here." Penelope squealed.

"Just surrender now and make it easy on yourself." Dave leaned in whispering in Morgan's ear.

"No way, old man."

Dave grinned and led the couple into the kitchen. Fran rushed to greet her daughter-in-law and then her son. Derek noticed she was overly friendly…she was definitely up to something. He hoped she had more than an amazing dinner up her sleeve because he wasn't going down easy.

Just as Dave had poured the four of them a glass of wine the doorbell rang and Fran waved her husband off and quickly rushed to open the door. After Derek and Penelope had gotten comfortable on the couch Fran returned with an unfamiliar woman following her.

"Everyone, this is Abigail Kennedy, a friend of mine."

Everyone smiled and greeted the woman warmly. Penelope couldn't help but notice the woman's amazing red pumps and sparkly matching red sweater.

"Oh my, are those Valentino's?"

Glancing down at her shoes Abigail smiled and took the seat next to Penelope.

"Why yes, I see you know your shoes."

"Indeed I do although those would cost me a month's salary."

"Well, these almost did but I had to have them if you know what I mean."

"Oh, I know, I know what you mean." Derek interrupted jokingly.

Penelope poked him in the side and glared at him from the corner of her eye pretending to pout.

"What? I'm just…"

"Give it up, son." Dave warned.

Dave poured another glass of wine and handed it to the newcomer and then joined his wife on the loveseat across from Derek, Penelope and Abigail.

"Fran and Dave you have a lovely home."

"It's a mansion." Derek said sarcastically.

Again, Derek was jabbed in his side by his wife.

"Ouch! What did I…?"

"Shh!"

Dave shook his head at his clueless stepson and raised his glass for a toast in hope of getting him out of the hole he was digging for himself.

"I'd like to propose a toast." The others raised their glasses. "To new friends, great shoes and good wine!"

"CHEERS!"

After several minutes, the gathering was moved to the dining room where the five of them continued to get to know each other and eat the amazing food that Dave and Fran had prepared. They'd already put a dent in the third bottle of wine and things were going great.

"So, Abigail, how do you know my mother?"

Fran smiled and nodded at the woman whom she'd only known a few months but they'd hit it off immediately.

"Well, Fran and I are working on New Hope's Christmas pageant."

"Oh, uh yes, the pageant."

"Fran is amazing! She's really out done herself. I'm just happy that my charity will be the beneficiary of her efforts this year."

"Yes mom has raised over a million dollars over the last six years through her church's pageant."

"Well, you are blessed to have such a caring and giving woman for a mother."

"Yes I am."

"Fran tells me that you're considering being our Santa this year."

Derek shot a glare across the table at his mother while Dave muffled a snicker under his white linen napkin.

"Uh, no that's not quite…"

"My son is so busy with his job and all, but I'm hoping he will agree to be our Santa…"

"Ma, we've discussed this already and I've given you my decision…"

"It's just that Mr. Riley who's been Santa for the last four years is sick and I really would like for you to do this just…"

"No ma! I'm not doing it."

Abigail watched the banter between mother and son and she couldn't help but notice the drop in temperature.

"So, Abigail, what charity do you work for?" Penelope interrupted just as Derek took a large sip of wine.

"I'm a fundraiser for the Children's Miracle Network. We help raise money for a large network of children's hospitals."

Derek nearly choked as he forced the wine down his throat like a rock. Stopping in mid-air he looked at his mother then Dave. He couldn't help but notice the smug look of victory on his mother's face while Penelope turned a bright shade of crimson.

"What a coincidence right Baby Boy?" Fran began. Then turning to Abigail. "My son had been volunteering at the local children's hospital for over a year now. It became his passion when the daughter of a close friend was diagnosed with cancer last year."

"How wonderful especially someone with a busy schedule like yours."

Derek hadn't moved. His eyes still fixed in a steely glare on his mother as he tried to recover from nearly drowning on his wine.

"We could really use you this year, Derek. I'm hoping you could help us out. It would mean a lot to the kids."

Still Morgan hadn't moved. Dave grabbed his napkin from his lap and began waving it unashamedly in the air. Penelope covered her mouth in shock while Fran simply returned her son's glare while a wide confident smile crossed her face.

"Close your mouth dear, before a fly gets in it."

Fran winked at her son. He should have known he didn't stand a chance against her. He spent countless hours working with the children at the hospital and he was dedicated and passionate about their wellbeing. She could see the steam coming from his ears. No one else could see it but she could. Meanwhile, Dave her loving husband always so supportive leaned over and gave her gentle kiss on the cheek then whispered in her ear.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side, Bella."

"Why whatever do you mean, husband of mine?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Home of Derek and Penelope Morgan – Evening**

The drive back to the Morgan's had been quiet…deadly quiet. Derek was still fuming at the dirty trick his mother had played. He'd made himself clear, several times that he did not want to play Santa Claus; it wasn't his thing…his style and she knew it. She knew perfectly well what the Children's Miracle Network meant to him. He'd even donated the proceeds from the sale of his last two restorations to the network earmarking the local children's hospital specifically. As he unlocked the door to their home, visions of revenge danced wildly in his head. Fran Morgan had won this battle but if he had anything to do with it she would not win the war.

Penelope watched her husband huff and puff as he stormed into the house and head straight to the liquor cabinet. It had been a while since she'd seen him this angry. She had to admit that Fran was a force to be reckoned with and poor Derek never stood a chance. There was no chance in hell he'd not show up in that red suit on Christmas Eve now. One point for Fran Morgan Rossi, she thought. The next few days were sure to be pure hell and her mother-in-law owed her big time.

 **Home of Dave and Fran Rossi –**

Dave chuckled to himself as he listened to his wife's humming as she put away the last of the food. Jingle Bells was her victory song for the evening and he had to admit she'd played a splendid hand. Derek was beaten before he'd even set foot into the mansion. Grabbing the last near empty wine bottle from the table he joined her in the kitchen.

"Pretty pleased with yourself, aren't you Bella?"

Dave wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly against his body.

"What do mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean, cara mia."

"I have a vision for this year's pageant and my son fits perfectly."

"We both know that Derek looks nothing like Santa, not even close."

"That's not what I mean, Dave. I want him to be able to connect to the holidays. He's always either away on a case or flying into Chicago at the last possible moment and the whole time he's like Ebenezer Scrooge."

"And you think tricking him into doing something he doesn't want to do will change that? He's Ebenezer on steroids right now. I hope this doesn't backfire on you, Fran."

Fran turned in his arms to face him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"It won't. Trust me. Three days from now, Derek will be dressed in red and ready to spoil those kids rotten."

Just then Dave's phone rang alerting him to a text message. Pulling it from his pocket he frowned as he read the message.

"Don't celebrate just yet." Then waving the phone in the air. "We just got a case."

 **BAU Headquarters – Quantico, VA –**

Hotch handed the stack of case files to Reid who took one and passed them around the table. Derek felt hope springing eternal as he examined the particulars of the case.

"Tracey Perkins, forty-one was found in the basement of her home by her husband when he returned from a business meeting this afternoon." Hotch began.

"Christmas garland?" Morgan noted.

"It looks like this unsub was in the Christmas spirit when he strangled the mother of four to death before stabbing her post-mortem ten times in the heart." Dave added.

"Pure rage!" Said Reid.

"Maybe one of her kids did it." Morgan mumbled under his breath.

Dave smiled and shook his head as he quickly glanced at the younger agent.

"Our next victim was discovered last night."

Each member grabbed the next picture in their files and placed it on top of the previous one.

"Same M.O." JJ began.

"Green garland this time." Reid observed.

"I wonder what could have driven this unsub to such anger?" JJ asked to no one in particular.

"Maybe she represented a mother who'd pissed them off in some way." Derek shot a glance at his stepfather.

"Come on Derek it's Santa Claus for god sake."

"I'm NOT doing it!"

"Am I missing something here?"

"No Hotch, just a family misunderstanding."

Rossi frowned this time as he shot a warning glare at Derek.

"Last but not least, the body of Bertha Mathers was found stuffed in her chimney, garland around her neck and multiple stab wounds to the heart. We have reason to believe she may have been the first victim."

"Why Christmas? Is nothing sacred?" Penelope whined.

"Well, Atlanta is asking for our help let's see if we can get this wrapped up so we can get back before Christmas Eve."

"Or not." Morgan whispered under his breath.

"Wheels up in thirty."

 **Atlanta Police Department- Downtown Atlanta, GA – Morning –**

The large precinct felt like a ghost town. It looked like most of the force had already taken off for Christmas. Detective Marshall Howard greeted the team as they entered.

"Agents, thank you for coming."

"It looks a little sparse around here."

"We try to operate with a skeleton crew over the holidays. Everybody's on call, just in case."

Everyone greeted each other with handshakes and the lone wave of Dr. Spencer Reid.

"Thanks for calling us in." Derek spoke with such sincerity in his voice.

"We could definitely use your help skeleton crew or no skeleton crew. Follow me I have the conference room already set up for you."

It had been several minutes and at least a dozen search requests later when Penelope dialed Morgan.

"Tell me something good Sweetness."

"Well, I dug deep into the lives of our victims and when I say I dug deep I mean I know the last time they…"

"Baby, baby you do want your man home for Christmas, right?"

"Yes, yes…okay…listen up."

The team all smiled and shook their heads. The banter between the two never ceased to amaze them.

"Each of our victims were very active in their community…their children's schools, volunteering at local hospitals and all of them were very active in their churches."

"Did they know each other?"

"Hold your horses Junior G-Man." Then. "It doesn't look like any of them knew each other but their community work is almost identical to each other."

"So our unsub knew the victims but the victims didn't necessarily know each other." Rossi added.

"It looks that way, yes."

Just as Hotch was about to give out assignments, Detective Marshall entered the room.

"We have another body."

"Rossi, Morgan head to our latest victim and JJ you and Reid go talk to the husband of Bertha Masters. If she is really our first victim then maybe we can find out why she was the only one found in the chimney."

Everyone nodded and headed out toward the SUV's. Morgan hopped behind the wheel while Rossi rushed to the passenger side.

"You knew didn't you?"

"Knew what?"

"You knew what my mother was up to all along."

"I swear I didn't have a clue. All I know is that when my wife wants something she knows how to get it."

"The Children's Miracle Network? Really? Come on you know and my mother knows how much that work means to me."

"I swear, I didn't know. I didn't know their fundraiser was coming to dinner…"

"Right. You expect me to believe that?"

"Honestly Derek, your mother is smarter than the both of us put together and you never stood a chance against her. I thought you knew that already."

"Yeah okay. I'm warning you old man, payback is a bitch and when I get my mother back you better not be anywhere around because the wrath of Derek will hit you too!"

"The wrath of Derek? Really? Is that the best you could come up with?"

The two men exchanged glances and burst into laughter as Derek pulled the SUV into the driveway of their latest victim.

 **Later…**

 **Atlanta Police Department –**

"Okay what do we have?" Hotch began.

"Each victim was killed in their home, strangled and stabbed multiple times post-mortem." Said Reid.

"Let's not forget the Christmas theme with the garland wrapped around their necks." JJ added.

"Two of the victims were found in the basements and one stuffed in the fireplace." Rossi noted.

"Why the change? Why did our unsub go from fireplace to the basement?" Morgan asked.

"Ease." Reid answered

"What do you mean, Reid?" Hotch asked.

"It would be very difficult to stuff a body into a fireplace. I mean I know that a lot of Christmas stories have Santa coming down a chimney, which for a man Santa's size would be near impossible without him getting stuck that is if he could actually fit in the first place. Then to travel down the chimney which is on the average only…"

"We get it kid." Morgan interrupted. "So, the basement was easier, hence the change."

"If these women did not know each other, we still need to find out who knew them all or if they were just random targets."

"Hotch I think the victimology tells us that they weren't random."

"Go on."

"Each woman was married, a mother and spent a lot of time volunteering in their community. Our unsub is probably someone active in the community as well. There has to be some crossover some where we just haven't found it yet."

"Call Garcia."

 **Later…**

"So what do you have against Santa?"

Rossi had followed Morgan to the coffee pot. Both of them had just returned from following another lead, which had turned out to be a dead end.

"Excuse me?"

"Santa, why are you so against the old guy."

"I don't have anything against Santa, Rossi."

"Then why won't you help your mother out for the pageant?"

Morgan turned to face the older man before responding. There was so much he could say, none of which would make any sense.

"Look, Dave I don't want to talk about this, okay?"

"No not okay, Morgan. When you tell her, no and you never tell her, no I have to live with the aftermath."

"Hey, you married her…for better or worse, remember?"

"That's not what I mean. She doesn't ask you kids for much, so when you have a reaction like you have she…"

"She what?"

"She worries and you know what happens when she starts worrying."

"You're freezer is packed, eh Dave?"

"The one in the house, the one in the garage and the one in the guest house."

"I remember being a kid and whenever I got in trouble, by the time I got home from school we had enough food to feed the whole neighborhood."

"So you understand."

"Yeah I understand."

Derek added his sugar and cream as Dave poured the last remaining coffee into his mug. He couldn't help noticing the sadness suddenly overcoming Derek.

"What's going on? Talk to me."

Derek took a seat at one of the tables in the small break room and sipped from his cup before answering.

"My dad was killed a little over a month before Christmas. My mom was in charge of the Christmas pageant at our church. Man, I loved my mother's pageants. She made my sisters and me perform in the play and that year she'd finally gotten my dad to be Santa Claus."

Dave slowly realized why Derek was adamant about not playing Jolly Ol' St. Nick and as he continued to listen everything made sense.

"I never went to another pageant after that. I'd pitch a fit if Ma even tried to make me go. After a while she just gave up."

"Derek I'm sorry, I didn't realize."

"It's not your fault."

Dave sensed that there was more. Suddenly Derek stood and moved to the other side of the room with his back to Dave. Dave stood too and followed him.

"Why do I feel there's more that you're not telling me?"

"Carl Buford."

"What about Carl Buford?"

"A couple weeks after he took me to his cabin…after he…"

Derek closed his eyes for a moment to gather his emotions. It was as if he was that little boy again trapped alone with the vile monster.

"Derek?"

"Carl asked me to come into his office. I was scared, I didn't want to but he said he had a Christmas present for me."

"Derek you don't have to tell me…"

"No, no I need to get this out, it's been too long."

Dave took a step back to give him some space.

"I went to his office…he was wearing one of those silly Santa hats. I saw the box in his hands and he was smiling. He told me to come closer then…"

"Then what?"

"I saw that his pants were unzipped."

Dave felt helpless in that moment. He was angry and had no idea of what to say that would bring his stepson some peace.

"Derek I am so sorry for what happened when you were a kid. Carl Buford was a monster. He's dead now rotting in hell where he belongs!"

"When does it end? Every time I think I've put it behind me something happens and I'm right back in that cabin or in his office at the community center."

"Derek you're the strongest man I know and a lesser man would have let Carl destroy him or he would have become what Carl was, but you didn't Derek. You're still here, fighting bringing down unsubs who hurt children."

"How do I get my mother to understand? I know it's important to her but I don't think I can go through with it, man. She won't listen…she doesn't hear me."

Dave gently placed his hand on Derek's shoulder. Derek flinched and then slowly relaxed under the realization that Dave wasn't Carl and Dave would never hurt him and most importantly, he wasn't that little boy anymore.

"You need to tell her, Derek. She needs to know then she will hear you and she will listen."

"I don't know if I can. I know she blames herself for what happened to me. She's never said it but I know she thinks it's her fault."

"Yeah you Morgan's are the Keepers of the Guilt. That's something she won't even talk to me about."

JJ rushed into the break room before the two could go any further.

"Garcia found something. Hotch wants to see us in the conference room."


	3. Chapter 3

"Speak to me Baby Girl!"

Rossi, JJ, Hotch and Reid quickly took their seats around the conference table as Derek stood nearby with his phone on speaker.

"Harold Simpson."

"Okay, I know that's one of your pauses for dramatic purposes but I remind you…"

"Yes my Chocolate Adonis I want you home for Christmas."

"Good. So, what you got for me Sweetness?"

"Harold Simpson, twenty-eight is our common denominator between these victims. He bounced from foster home to foster home after his mother dropped him off on the steps of Christ Our Redeemer Church in downtown Atlanta. AND to make matters even sadder, she dropped him off on Christmas Eve."

"That would definitely give a kid Christmas issues."

"So true Blondie. Now here's where things get interesting. Two of our victims are registered as emergency Foster care providers and Harold spent time in both of their homes. According to child welfare records, Harold could only stay in each place for a few weeks and because he was a behavior problem he was hard to place in a permanent home. Harold was finally placed with Bertha Masters and things were going well for a while until Harold attacked a teacher at school. Masters insisted he be removed from her home and he was again placed in an emergency home and then finally was sent to stay in a group home until he aged out of the system."

"So Masters was the first victim. He thought he'd finally found a home." JJ began.

"And to top it off, he was removed from the Master's home on Christmas Eve."

"So his biological mother gives him up around Christmas and his foster family did the exact same thing! Stuffing her in the chimney was an act of extreme rage. It was just too time consuming and difficult to repeat with the other victims." Rossi added.

"He's not done."

Everyone stopped and focused their attention on the youngest member of their team.

"What, Pretty Boy?"

"Harold has killed three of his foster mothers that leaves on more left."

"You're right. He's not going to stop until he finishes." Then. "Garcia…"

"On it Bossman."

Morgan and Rossi rushed out of the building headed toward the SUV's. Like what was often the case, the drive was quiet the atmosphere heavy with anticipation.

"You think we'll make it in time?"

"We can't think about that right now, we just have to get there."

"Garcia's been trying to call her for the last twenty minutes, Rossi."

"I know Morgan but you've been doing this a long time and you know that sometimes we don't get there in time. All we can do is our best."

"I just don't want to lose this one Rossi."

"Yeah I know you don't, kid none of us do."

 **Home of Bertha Masters –**

The dingy-white late model sedan looked out of place in the upscale neighborhood. It stuck out like a sore thumb parked haphazardly in the driveway. Morgan parked across the driveway blocking any possible escape. Both men exited as Hotch, JJ and Reid pulled up. Hotch ordered Morgan and Rossi to enter the house through the front door while he, JJ and Reid entered through the rear.

Muted voices drew Morgan and Rossi toward a door that they both assumed led to the basement. On the count of three Rossi followed Morgan quietly through the door and down the steps. It didn't take long for Harold to see them perched on the steps with guns drawn and aimed at his head. He quickly shifted his position to stand behind the frightened woman using her trembling body as a shield.

"Harold Simpson, it's the FBI! Put the gun down." Morgan ordered.

"She deserves to die! She doesn't deserve to see Christmas!"

"Don't do anything foolish, Harold!" Rossi added as both he and Morgan were now standing on the basement floor.

"Don't come any closer, either of you or I'll shoot her!"

"We know what happened to you, Harold. It sucks, man I know it does."

"You don't know anything!"

"I do, I do! Mothers can really piss you off sometimes, Harold but trust me, you don't want to do this!"

"I just wanted a family for Christmas. Was that asking too much? My mother dumped me like garbage on Christmas Eve and my other families got rid of me before Christmas too!"

Morgan moved closer to the man who was now shaking slightly with tears of anguish streaming down his face.

"Morgan…"

"It's okay…me and Harold we get it, right Harold?"

Harold looked from one agent to the other then trained his attention on Morgan with a slim hope that someone would be on his side. He shook his head in agreement. Rossi tightened his grip on his gun just in case.

"Let her go, Harold."

"I-I can't do that."

"If you kill her then she wins. She gets to die knowing that she ruined your Christmas and your life."

Derek took another step closer and so did Rossi.

"If you let her go then she loses, Harold. I know that doesn't make any sense but if you let her live than you're showing her that her giving you away didn't end your life! Don't you see Harold…her giving you away gave you life! It didn't destroy you…Harold."

"I…just wanted…a family…"

"I know…"

Morgan took another step toward Harold. He was almost close enough to take the gun.

"…That's all. I just wanted a family for Christmas"

Morgan gently placed his hand on Harold's and pulled it away from the woman's temple. Harold offered no resistance as he looked pleadingly into Morgan's face.

"I know, I know." Then taking the gun out of the man's hand. "Harold Simpson, you're under arrest."

 **Home of Derek and Penelope Morgan – Morning –**

On any other case the team would have spent the night in Atlanta but it was two days before Christmas and all of them wanted to get home. Morgan insisted that Penelope go home and get some rest and after several minutes of arguing back and forth he basked in a rare win with his wife. The ride home was quiet with most of them sleeping most of the way. He hadn't slept though all he could think of was his conversation with Rossi. He'd never shared that with anyone before. It felt good to let go of some of the baggage he'd lugged around for so long.

He didn't realize how tired he was until he stepped inside of his home. The smells of Christmas greeted him warmly as he plopped down on the couch. The lights on the tree were still on blinking brightly no doubt an intentional gesture of his thoughtful wife. This case had taken a lot out of him. Knowing that seven young children would spend Christmas without their mothers broke his heart. For a moment he felt ashamed for being so angry with his mother even though he still believed she had been wrong in trying to manipulate him into doing what she wanted.

She could never sleep knowing that he was on his way home. She had to see that he was safe with her own eyes. He looked so peaceful sitting on the couch his head resting against the wall and his eyes closed. Knowing him he hadn't meant to fall asleep but no doubt he needed the rest. The case had been a difficult one with all of them secretly dedicated to solving it quickly and getting back to what mattered to them the most. Penelope tiptoed around the couch and slowly lowered herself next to him. Derek began to stir once she planted a light kiss on his cheek and took his hand in hers.

"Hey Baby Girl."

"Welcome home Hot Stuff."

He turned his head and looked at her with a smile on his face.

"I missed you."

"Not as much as I missed you."

She saw the emotions on his face even though he was certain he'd concealed them from her.

"Bad huh?"

"Yeah it was pretty bad."

She curled up close and laid her head on his chest. Instinctively his arm wrapped around her and held her in place tight against his body.

"Baby?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you talk to me?"

"About what?"

"Anything."

She smiled his request was similar to one made several years ago before they'd gotten together.

"Okay." She kissed him lightly on the lips. He moaned and she kissed him again for good measure. "I'm here for you, Handsome and I love you with all of my heart.

"I know you do. I love you too."

Then the sound of his snoring replaced the quietness in the room.

 **Later that morning…**

The heavenly smells of bacon, eggs and pancakes roused Derek from his slumber. He could hear Penelope tinkering in the kitchen so he slowly pulled his body from the couch and headed down the hall. He smiled as he snuck up on her wrapping his strong arms around her waist.

"Good morning beautiful!"

"I'll show you a good morning, Hot Stuff."

Chuckling he planted a kiss on her neck. He loved their mornings together. Watching her working around the kitchen made him smile and he realized just how blessed he was.

"Sit, breakfast is ready."

"Yes ma'am."

Just then the doorbell rang and he sprang to his feet.

"I'll get it, Baby Girl."

Checking his watch he peered through the peephole surprised to see the woman standing on the other side.

"Ma? What are you doing here?"

"Hey Baby Boy."

Derek stepped aside to let her in.

"I'm sorry to bother you this early in the day."

"No, you know you're always welcome. We were just about to sit down for breakfast, join us."

"No…I just wanted to talk to you."

He saw the sad look on her face.

"What's wrong? Is Dave okay?"

"Yes he's fine but he did tell me about your conversation."

"Oh, that…"

"Yes, that."

Derek motioned to the couch and the two of them sat down. She was nervous and it was obvious. The two of them had never spoken much about his abuse. She'd tried several times to get him to talk to her but he would only withdraw and become angry.

"Son, why didn't you talk to me? I had no idea…"

"Ma, I'm sorry. I couldn't talk about it, especially to you."

"Why? I'm your mother and I love you."

"Yeah I know and I love you. I just was too…"

"Oh my god…do you blame me for what happened to you? If I hadn't insisted you start going to the community center this would have never happened…"

"No! Don't! Don't do that, Ma! What that man did to me was not your fault, not even close!"

She was the strongest woman he knew but at that moment she looked so fragile as tears began to stream down her face.

"I never blamed you, ever! You and my sisters are the only reasons I survived."

"What?"

"If I didn't have you…if I were alone…what that man did would have killed me. I felt like garbage and every time he would touch me I wanted to die…to take my life but I had you and Sarah and Dez."

"Oh my poor baby boy…"

"You saved me because I had a reason to live…to keep going."

"Thank you, Derek." Then wiping the tears from her face. "I wanted to let you know that I am officially releasing you from your Santa duties. Mr. Sanchez agreed to fill in this year."

"I'll do it."

"No really, what I did was pretty low and I shouldn't have..."

"I'll do it."

"I can't blame you if you never…

"Ma! I said, I'll do it."

"What? "

"Really I'll do it."

"But…you were pretty adamant about not doing it what changed your mind?"

"This case. I realize I can't let Carl control me especially from the grave. It's time I take my life, my past, my present and my future back from his filthy hands."

"I don't know what to say."

"Just tell me what time I need to be at the church."

"Thank you, son…I'm so proud of you! So, so proud of you!"

 **Christmas Eve –**

 **Emmanuel Christian Church – Evening –**

Fran stood beaming as she looked over the crowd. The church was packed and it was safe to say that this was the best pageant in the church's history. The Children's Miracle Network would be receiving a very large gift from them. The loud enthusiastic applause slowly began to die down as she waited to make her final introduction.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you all so much for coming out this evening. To close out our program tonight, is a very special guest. So without further ado let's put our hand together and welcome, Santa Claus as he reads, "Christmas Bells," written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow!"*

Fran turned and headed behind the curtains just as Derek, dressed in all the regalia of Saint Nick too the stage. Penelope had out done herself with every minute detail. No one would ever recognize Derek behind the white hair and mustache. The children screamed and clapped and jumped up and down with glee as he took his place in the big high back chair in the middle of the stage.

 _"_ _I heard the bells on Christmas Day_

 _Their old, familiar carols play,_

 _And wild and sweet_

 _The words repeat_

 _Of peace on earth, good-will to men!_

 _And thought how, as the day had come,_

 _The belfries of all Christendom_

 _Had rolled along_

 _The unbroken song_

 _Of peace on earth, good-will to men!_

 _Till ringing, singing on its way,_

 _The world revolved from night to day,_

 _A voice, a chime,_

 _A chant sublime_

 _Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"_

Fran felt her husband's arms wrap lovingly around her waist. For the first time that day she relaxed letting him support the weight of her body against his. God had blessed her more than she could ever imagine or deserve. Life had dealt her an interesting hand that had often been filled with sadness and challenges. Her only son had endured so much pain in secret, determined to protect her and his sisters from the truth. He had been so young when he insisted on assuming his father's place as the man of the house.

Over the years she'd been blessed with love at a time when she'd grown familiar with being alone. David Rossi had stepped in and loved her hard and patiently. He was confident that he could make her happy and he was not intimidated by her past. She was happy, so much so that sometimes it felt like a dream. As she watched Derek who had been so broken and determined to hide the fissures that ran through his heart now taking his life back and proving that he was a survivor of Satin himself.

 _"Then from each black, accursed mouth_

 _The cannon thundered in the South,_

 _And with the sound_

 _The carols drowned_

 _Of peace on earth, good-will to men!_

 _It was as if an earthquake rent_

 _The hearth-stones of a continent,_

 _And made forlorn_

 _The households born_

 _Of peace on earth, good-will to men!_

 _And in despair I bowed my head;_

 _"There is no peace on earth," I said;_

 _For hate is strong,_

 _And mocks the song_

 _Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"_

Fran hadn't realized that she had been crying until Dave gently wiped the tears from her face. She had so much to live for and with every loss she was convinced now more than ever, she had gained it back ten times over.

 _"Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:_

 _"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;_

 _The Wrong shall fail,_

 _The Right prevail,_

 _With peace on earth, good-will to men."_

THE END

* _Christmas Bells By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_

 _Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was inspired to write this poem in 1863 during the Civil War when his son went off to fight for the Union against his wishes. While this song is about Christmas time, there is an underlying tone of the war (The Wrong shall fail, The Right prevail). This poem is the basis for the Christmas carol "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day."_

Source: poem/christmas-bells-by-henry-wadsworth-longfellow


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